This is my first story so don't judge i'm not a great writer. But give me advice in the comments if you think of any advice., I'm always open to improvements.

Hey, my name is Isabel Lovato, until a couple of years ago my surname was a lie, I thought it was Wong, but little did I know the truth behind my family would be as complicated as speaking Cantonese when your English. I'm only 18 but I've been through my fair share of troubles, if you want to know listen and step into my life.

Sweat caused my thin white shirt to stick to me like a leech as I slid my keys into my house door wearily, today had been one of those days in which nothing cheered you up, but I guess that's mostly my life. Since as long I can remember I've been depressed but I only realised it when I was eleven, I kept it bottled up for two years but eventually it started to progress into other disorders and as much as I was ashamed I knew I had to tell someone, I knew a few people were empathetic but I still started off slow, one person at a time.

I didn't think anyone was home so I went upstairs not saying a word, usually i would sing a song or something but, I wasn't really in the mood, even if I had to hide everything from my family, I didn't have the strength at the moment to keep mask on.

My family was messed up, but I never felt like I could trust them. Yes both my sister's were emotionally ill as well, Alice self harmed and Emily was sucidal, but didn't trust them not to tell my dad, he wouldn't understand he would just panic and get stressed his stress always turns to anger and that brings back memories, memorise I don't want to remember no matter how little they are.

When I got to my room I flipped down on my bed, but as I looked up I saw how much of a mess my room was and no matter how much I try messes and unorganised stuff always bothers me, so I got up and spent the next three hours tidying the space in the center of my room and my tables. It still annoyed me but I didn't have time to organise each wardrobe at least now I could see my room clearly.

My bed backed up against the far wall underneath the windows, one on the far wall and the other on the far right next to the other, I long wardrobe stood along the right wall next to the window, two sliding doors one with a mirror the other wood and another door that opened and closed normally. A desk with a wooden folding chair tucked neatly underneath and a chest of drawers along the remaining wall. A small ditch in the wall right over where you come in was home to another wooden wardrobe that held my books. The walls were painted red and purple and a creme carpet covered the floor with a creme roof.

I sat back down on my bed thinking over how to organise my room tomorrow each section planned carefully, i was so caught up in thinking i didn't hear the door downstairs and the faint mumered aguing, eventually after organising my room in my head, i look around and my eyes catch my two pink heart shaped bowls that were piled on top of each other to hide what was inside them. I shouldn't of looked at them it takes my mind back to negative places even with a glimpse, my leg starts shaking as my mind begins to argue with itself again, the sensible side never wins and I eventually give in, my mind telling me not to every second until the razor blades pierce my skin and I carve into my skin craving that feeling of pain I deserve. I can't stop myself anymore, I got control last month, sort of, I got a clean streak of five and saying how bad I was before that's an achievement but I went of the rails again, I don't remember what triggered it but something did and now I can't go back.

I'm in the middle of my final cut when the creak of my door rings through my ears and my body goes into panic mode. Until I hear the voice and I soon become curious.

"Isabel..."

Hope you like the first chapter.